One of my good friends has whooping cough. Damned anti-vax nuts.There’s an outbreak of it in her community.
We keep getting snow that melts half an hour later and then rain. Cold rain and then cold weather without snow. It’s like spring but ugly.
All of mine do, but that might because the first thing I do when I get my hands on a cat is to have it fixed. The nice, friendly ones just say mild words while they are asking why I hate them so much. The ferals swear like Marines. The worst part is that I understand all of the words.
That’s because you ride with a low crowd. They’re teaching you all the wrong words.
Someone: You look great! How much weight have you lost?
Me: About 80 pounds.
Someone: So you’re done?
Me: No, I’ve got about another 10 to 15 pounds to go.
EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. PERSON: OH NOES! You don’t want to lose too much! You should stop losing weight right now forever!
Listen you dumbfucks, I know you mean well, but I’ll be the one who decides what I want to weigh. For the love of jeebus, I’m 5’9" tall. 165 to 170 pounds is NOT some borderline anorexic danger zone.
Seriously, every damn person I’ve said this to says a variation of the same thing. Now, I just tell people I’m done. In a couple of months, if they ask if I’ve lost more weight I’ll just deny it.
Stealth bragging!
Er, I mean, congratulations. 
My cat is a mild swearer; something like, “Please, if it’s not too much trouble, could you open this damned door?”
My husband’s cat is the Marine swearer - “OPEN THIS GODDAMNED MOTHERFUCKING DOOR RIGHT FUCKING NOW!”
That’s sounds like the best plan. Or, just tell them the truth; “Yeah, I’ve dropped another couple, but I think I’m stable now.”
Oh, my cats swear too. The Siamese, who is not feral at all, is the worst. Not only will she damn you to Perdition for all eternity, she’ll have a few choice words about your ancestry, too. Apparently my husband’s parents were dogs, especially his mother. Or at least that’s what Sapphire says when she’s mad at him.
The little gray girl, who actually was sort of feral (she was pretty much left to fend for herself outside, and occasionally her humans would give her some food and water), is the mildest of the quartet. If she gets underfoot and then gets stepped on, she just says OW and then forgives you. If you offend Sapphire the Snotty Siamese, though, she’ll remember it for days.
Or if Dante gets irritated enough, he can say “I dieted to lose the first 80 pounds, but the cancer is responsible for the rest.”
I think the reason the lolcats type in an odd fashion is a play on the term “chatspeak” of the type one might find on the pit.
On another note, I’d like to consign the Cheezburger network to the pit. Providing another’s work for free against their will is supposedly such a heinous crime that legislation is repeatedly provided to combat it… Yet, deriving a profit by watermarking someone else’s work that they’ve provided for free and sticking ads next to it is supposedly a commendable business plan.
Thanks for the cat advice, a Ssscat might be a possibility. Yesterday we took a strip of wood and screwed it to the bottom of the door so Bruno can’t get his paw underneath it. I still heard him scrabbling at it half the night but it was a little quieter than his usual sounds (I think he puts his paw under the door and pulls on it so the whole door thrums). He also bats the doorknob, but I can block him from reaching that.
Anyway, it’s his move now. I have every confidence that he will come up with a new trick.
OMG, I have the perfect invention for that. But I’m not going to post it here as it would be owned by Creative Loafing. Need to put that together and talk to some pet product companies.
An eBay buyer with zero feedback bought one of my items. This made me saaaaaad, because I have never in my history of eBay selling had a zero feedback buyer pay for an item.
But lo, she pays! Yay!
On Saturday afternoon. The post office is closed.
Bright and early Monday morning she emails me, asking in irate language why her package hasn’t shipped yet since she paid for it on Saturday!!!
Guess what, bitch? It’s President’s Day and the post office is STILL closed. Just like it has been since you paid. Have a nice day.
I took part in the SDMB Valentine’s exchange, thinking, hey, I’m single and some cards would be nice!
Sent out 5 cards and 4 e-cards. Got back two cards, and three e-cards. One of the real cards was days late, and one of the e-cards was the same one I’d sent out.
I know they say it’s better to give than recieve, but still, I won’t bother next year.
(posted here to avoid threadshitting in MPSIMS)
Feel free to send me one for testing purposes!
Getting water, I’d betcha. Ants get thirsty, too.
Goddamnit, it’s expensive to be in debt. Fucking finance charges. 
Dude, why the hell are you sauntering across the interstate? Do you not see the many cars coming at high speed? I’m so glad you decided to hop onto the median just as I went by. Being responsible for your death is not how I wanted to spend my day.
Valentino, my late lamented Siamese, would swear in a very Old English Gentleman type of way - “I say, old girl, is it really necessary that you let the level of the kibble in the yellow food bowl get down to such unaccepable levels? I do believe I can see, yes actually see, glimmers of yellow through the pieces of kibble in the bottom of the bowl. I have carefully placed the hair band required as renumeration for my daily victual, I assure you I have placed it in the bowl as per our contract, and yet I would be remiss if I did not note the fact that there are bits of yellow visible…”
Sugar Magnolia, the former feral - while sitting and looking adorable - (in a very soft voice): “Mom?”
LtCmdr Dax, a resuce at about 2 days of total unknown origin, just sits and looks beautiful. So do Cricket, another feral kitten rescue, Yogi, a former clinic cat and Mr. Spock, who came from the Humane Society.
Magik, the $1200 purebred Cornish Rex rescue, cusses like a drunken Marine on shore leave in several different languages. Some of which I am very glad I don’t understand. He does it at such a high volume I have been accused of abusing him while talking on the phone (What are you doing to that cat) and he is audible on my voicemail message. He doesn’t even appear to breathe while on one of his rants.
He ended up with me because the mother of his original owner (he was a birthday gift for a 10 year old girl) decided he talked too much and threw him outside. The giver of cat repossessed him - he has no undercoat and can’t live outside in the winter, even in Georgia - and gave him to me. Little did I know what “talks too much” really meant. In my innocence, I thought “I have a Siamese, how bad can it be?”
A Cornish Rex makes a Siamese seem quiet!
Systemanalyse und Programmentwicklung, you can gargle the sweat from my scrotum.
It’s still better than our previous system :(.
I weep for the future when graduate students in a physics department fail to realize that if you have 10 things in a cubic centimeter, there are, logically, going to be a hell of a lot more than 10 of those things in a cubic meter.